Endless
by m1blue
Summary: Way back when Final Fantasy IX was new, I wrote this. It is AUish and odd. Kuja muses all by his lonesome at the end of the game.


Endless

A/N: I wrote this six or seven years ago, when I was eleven. It is untouched by my mad editor skilz, and is either better than my current writing or worse. I'm of mixed opinion on that. Final Fantasy IX and Kuja © Square Enix

* * *

Stretching past the limits of my vision. The eternal void could have reached to the extremes of space, or stopped mere inches from my nose. 

I didn't know, and didn't care to find out.

Another spasm jolted my body: from pain or grief, or both, I was too far gone to distinguish.

I was dying. I knew it, and accepted my fate with open arms.

Endless.

My sorrow and guilt haunting me. But I deserved this. I deserved this... this final act in the play that was my existence. To say 'life' would be a lie; I had no life, my being was just a game.

And I, a puppet, a pawn, easily disposed of. A tool in this endless game called life. My purpose to be used by the players.

I wanted to stop it, and to destroy those who lacked the grace to appreciate what I could never have. I manipulated those around me, such as I was. I believed what I was doing was right, was justified.

I was said to be ruthless, but I just saw the straight line to my goal, and sacrifices must be made to insure that I complete my self-appointed mission. I would've showed mercy if it was, in some way, to my advantage.

I destroy to help, to heal, to cleanse.

No one would ever understand. No one could contain me. No one will use me again, never.

No one could, ever, love the monster that is me.

I knew what I was. Porcelain beauty, delicate figure, and subtle, cold bloodlust. I was an Angel.

An Angel of Death.

I thought Zidane would understand. He was created for the same purpose, but as the superior puppet. The word had a horrible ring of clarity to it. That's all I was- a mindless puppet, obeying every whim of my master, a genome.

A silent, scarlet tear rolled down my cheek as I thought of the laughing, blue-eyed boy. I truly thought he would understand. I thought he could.

"No body could understand why you stood and laughed as innocent people were killed." A voice grated harshly, mangling it's haunting quality.

I thought... I thought... Oh, god, he hates me. The blood drop that had traced a forlorn path down my near-white cheek moments before had become a thin stream, reflected on my other side as well.

"'I thought,'" the voice mimicked. "You thought! You thought his virtues would allow him to forgive you. But, in the end, he, too, acknowlaged his thirst for pain and destruction. Destruction of the heart, destruction of the mind. Destruction of the soul."

The harsh words of my brother echoed through the fading halls of my mind. It hurt worse than any other thing inflicted upon me in my short existence. It felt as though I had a crazed cat inside, tearing away life with every slash. My soul was being lead down the sweet path of misery to the underworld, lead by a petite boy with blonde hair, a brown monkey tail, and laughing, mocking, torturing blue eyes.

He left me without forgiveness.

He left me in the darkness with the endless tortures of my mind.

I screamed, I sobbed, I begged for him to forgive me. I was on the verge of going crazy. No one could hear me, even though I screamed with my endless pain. No one could care.

I was dying, and no one would remember me, or forgive me. I'd be a name without a picture, a story to frighten young children.

Death wasn't an end, birth wasn't a begining. All there was was the Endless. Life. My fight was pointless.

The voice, my voice, was laughing.

"Endless," it wispered, "The endless tortures of being." The laughing again.

I closed my eyes and nodded. "The endless pain of belief."

Life, death. All was a vicious, endless cycle.

Endless...

Life, death.  
In one breath,  
All the same.  
The Endless game.

It will continue.  
Forever on,  
Ignoring the pawn.  
You can not fight,  
Can you?  
Just a taste of light,  
is all you ask.

Hidden behind your mask.  
All you think of is revenge.  
You want to avenge  
Your heart, your soul.  
To end the endless game.  
To stop the ache, is your goal.

Just the feel of light, is all you ask.  
To quelch the pain hidden behind your mask.


End file.
